Officially diagnosed: The Grief cycle of autism

I hesitated before stepping back into the doctors office. I reminded myself to breathe and coached my fingers on how to turn the door knob. If nothing else I told myself I sure as hell would walk into that evaluation with my shoulders back and head held high! 

Despite having the best of intenions I felt my shoulders and vulnerable heart falling, I bit my lower lip when "moderate autism" and "level two" rolled easily off of  the doctors tongue. He was a specialist this scenario was routine for him.....but it wasn't for me.  It was so very personal. I didn't want life to be difficult for my son. The bandaid I had so carefully placed on my heart was abruptly ripped off.  The relief I had expected to feel was crippled by the guilt. The guilt I had been hanging onto for dear life. In some strange way it made me feel like I had power in a situation where I felt hopelessly and completely  helpless! 

 The doctor seemed surprised on how quickly the tables had turned the poor man didn't have a chance to answer my last question before I would shoot off another. I needed to know if this was my fault. Was it something I did wrong?

The tension in the room was quickly escalating. 
Hot tears ran down my face. My sweet husband  grabbed me by the shoulders and begged for me not to do this to myself. He told me that it didn't matter what they said, it would never change how much we loved him. His voice caught in his throat, I watched his adams apple dance when he told me  "I wouldn't trade him for any boy in the world....I would never change anything about him!" I could hear the desperation in his voice and I knew he meant it.

Either would I.

The doctor had simply confirmed what we had known in our heart for years at this point!
It felt so raw, the pain was so real.. all over again. Strange how that is! So we did the only thing we could do. we prayed for help...for guidance and direction....

More on the miracles that transpired later :)

For now: I loved this article on the grief cycle and heck the fact that they mentioned you should grieve as many times as you need to!

Now onto a sweeter note Jett is a very own living breathing alarm clock! The first thing I hear is a "goo mornin' " usually inches away from my face....Then he peels off my covers and tells me "Mama up" I kind of love that!..........and other morning I ask my little early bird to bring mama the I-pad. I think he loves those types of morning best ;)